You're Suppose To Swallow
by VerityFrancesB
Summary: What is this?  I don't even! Short, silly, Harvey/Mike, sparked when a friend said "you're suppose to swallow...maybe Mike could give you lessons" after I chocked on coffee.


Mike's pretty sure he's never been this tired. And he's including that week when he got so high he couldn't sleep and spent most of it pretending to be Robin to Trevor's Batman.

He's surviving right now on 5 hours sleep in the last three days (mainly due to work, but also, in part, to Harvey's outstanding recovery time akin to that of a horny teenager's, between mind blowing orgasms) and Red Bull which would probably be more effective if intravenously fed directly into his veins rather than through his mouth.

He's waiting for Harvey whilst survey his incredible view, forehead and hand pressed to the window and a mouthful of Red Bull billowing out his cheeks, because, like alcohol, Mike's pretty sure the sugar and caffeine gets absorbed more quickly through his tongue when a strong hand slides around his waist and tugs him backwards.

"You're supposed to swallow...I thought I taught you better than that, Rookie," And Mike does what any normal human being would do with Harvey Specter's firm body pressed up close behind him and a mouthful of Red Bull, he chokes, swallows and coughs so hard he thinks he might dislodge a lung and Harvey, the bastard, just chuckles, slides his fingers downward and presses them lightly against his crotch, "smooth kiddo."

"Jesus Harvey," Mike gasps, a little breathlessly, who can blame him, also his throat kind of hurts right now, "you can't just say things like that," Harvey chuckles again as Mike clears his throat, presses his fingers a little harder against Mike's, now aching, cock and Mike would be worried about the fact that Harvey's got him pressed hard against the windows, and his cock is hard in Harvey's hand and the fact that anyone can see, but Harvey licks at the shell of his ear and Mike can't remember how to breathe let alone give a damn what other people may or may not see.

"I thought we established I can do whatever the hell I want?" Harvey says and his breath is hot and wet against Mike's neck.

"Including jerking me off in your office?" Mike asks, pressing his head back to the window and Harvey licks across the back of his neck and lets him go, Mike turns his head quick enough to see him straighten out his waistcoat and tie.

"Who said anything about jerking you off?" he says, around a huge shit eating grin and Mike narrows his eyes, presses the heel of his hand to his crotch.

"You're an evil, sadistic bastard," he groans and Harvey grins again, in a way that can only be described as lasciviously and Mike feels his cheeks blush and Harvey's eyes rake up and down his body. He purses his lips and shrugs in that annoying, still elegant way.

"And you, my little masochist, love every second of it," he says and Mike has to agree he's got a point. He doesn't have to agree out loud though so he just glares unconvincingly at him and Harvey snorts in the inelegant way he does whenever Mike does something he finds adorable. Which is more often that he would like to admit out loud to Mike, but Harvey has rubbed off on him and he he's become pretty adept at reading Harvey's face. Harvey grins and takes a quick look around, sees no one is watching except Donna with that amused expression on her face, and pulls Mike close, kisses him hard and quick and dirty and lets him go, leaving Mike reeling and hard and blushing like a schoolgirl. He pinches Mike's chin between his thumb and index finger and narrows his eyes slightly, thumb fitting almost perfectly into the curve under Mike's lips. "Go do some work, I'll fuck you into the mattress later," he says and Mike blushes again, ignores the splutter from Donna over the intercom.

"I hate you," he says and Harvey kisses him again quickly, letting him go and straightening out his waistcoat. He looks every inch the polished executive lawyer that he is but Mike knows how to make him come undone and have curses spilling from his lips, he knows what Harvey's hair feels like when it's not caked in product, soft under his fingers. Harvey raises an eyebrow as his phone rings.

"Now we both know that's a lie, Puppy..." he flicks his hand in the direction of the door and Mike hurries out as Harvey answers the phone, his cheeks flame as Donna smirks at him.

Mike wants nothing more than to go to the nearest bathroom and um..._take care..._of his aching dick, but Harvey would probably use it against him at some point later so he goes back to his desk, tries to ignore the throbbing between his legs and the suggestive text messages Harvey spends the rest of the day sending him.

Evil, sadistic bastard.


End file.
